Thursday, January 12, 2006

PURE HELL. Or not.

Now, I'm sure you're aware of how much I love London. I love love LOVE
it. But sometimes i feel that it doesn't return my affections, that it
wants me to be unhappy. Its agents, usually are the staff and
passengers of the Tube.

This weekend, there was another tube strike, which I have to say - the
Evening Standard's "PURE HELL" headline notwithstanding - seemed a bit
of a washout. Then I read the LU press release. It said that the
reason the RMT staff were striking was that they would not accept the
new rota deal for - get this - a 35-hour week, and a whopping 52 days'
holiday. Shurely shome mistake? 52 days? That's nearly two bloody
months! My sympathy for the oppressed masses of tube workers has never been lower, especially given the fare rises which came in on January
2. The whole thing makes me feel like a pub bore, shrouded in
nostalgia, holding forth to anyone who will listen (this is you):
"When I first came to London, a zone 1 single was £1.70.... "

As if to confirm that the Tube is an agent of Satan, I witnessed
something disgusting last week. A man got on at Bermondsey station,
with a large and splenetic-looking dog. It reminded me of Bill Sykes'
dog in Oliver! - mean, calculating, smelly. For several minutes I
sniggered behind my book as its overgrown claws meant it had no
purchase on the slippery train floor. But karma was about to jump up
and bite me on the ass (although the dog, thankfully, stopped just
short of that). Before I knew it, the man had decided to sit down a
seat away from me. How unpleasant, I thought, to have the dog sniffing
round my ankles.

But no! He encouraged the dog to jump right on up and have a seat. it
can't have been any happier with this arrangement than with skidding
round, because it fidgeted for several minutes, before starting - I
swear with an insouciant look at me first - to lick its balls, slowly
and deliberately. As is obligatory with medium-sized dogs, they were
huge - massively out of proportion with its scrawny frame- and yet so
very much in contact with a seat on which an unsuspecting human bottom
would be sitting mere minutes later.

Again; not a real post. But I've been reading some very interesting books - try being a girl and reading a book subtitled "The Failures of Feminism" if you want male attention in public - so I will be airing my fatuous opinions on them very soon.

4 Comments:

Blogger leflange said...

52 working days is that? Because I get 20, which I consider one month, to a couple of days.

52 working days is over TEN WEEKS.

Jesus.

1/12/2006 4:14 pm  
Blogger galatea said...

Surely some of its got to be in lieu of weekends and bank holidays? Surely?

(and ha ha, I get 25.)

1/12/2006 9:52 pm  
Blogger hangthedj said...

rank...about the dog I men

1/16/2006 10:55 pm  
Blogger The Grinch said...

Can't tell you how many times I've wanted to do that on the Tube.

Damned social conventions.

1/18/2006 10:53 pm  

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